


serendipity

by tkreyesevandiaz



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Attempt at Humor, Barista Eddie Diaz, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Hidden Talents, M/M, Meet-Cute, Mild Language, POV Alternating, Post-Divorce, Post-it Notes, Small Towns, Soft Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Writer Evan "Buck" Buckley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:33:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25689643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tkreyesevandiaz/pseuds/tkreyesevandiaz
Summary: Eddie and Christopher moved to Grayton to start over, for life to slow down. So he gets a job at the local café, instantly taking to the new life like a fish to water. It finally feels like his life is in his control for once.Buck is struggling with his new manuscript, because his inspiration has up and left him. On a friend's suggestion, he goes to sit in her wife's café, and what he meets there has his muse sparking in more ways than one.Or, the small town coffee shop meet-cute no one asked for
Relationships: Christopher Diaz & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Eddie Diaz & Karen Wilson (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley & Henrietta "Hen" Wilson, Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz
Comments: 65
Kudos: 225





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [oneawkwardcookie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneawkwardcookie/gifts), [kitkat0723](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitkat0723/gifts).



> This was written as a birthday gift for Kat and Cookie, even though I'm super late for Kat's because this got away from me xD This is completely based on a list of coffee shop AU headcanons I wrote a while back, I just didn't expect it to get this long.
> 
> Thank you to Aisha for beta'ing this for me, and CJ for being a sounding board when I couldn't get my brain to work.

_Serendipity_

Eddie furrowed his brow as he looked up at the sign, and back down at the email open on his phone. This was the place.

Funny name for a coffee shop, though.

He pushed the door open, smiling at the faint jingle above his head before getting his first look around his potential workplace.

The first thing he noticed was that it smelled like coffee.

Briefly, Eddie registered that the thought should have been obvious, but to him, it was different. Unlike other people, the smell of coffee wasn’t just about the beans or whatever. He loved it because the smell of coffee reminded him of productivity, new beginnings and of luxuries he didn’t have in the Army.

He could use the new beginning, for sure.

The second thing he noticed was that it was homey. That was a word Eddie never thought he’d use for anything but his impression of Serendipity would be just that - it was homey. Nothing like a regular Starbucks or that little joint down the road from his old community college that had maybe three rickety tables and a cross barista drumming their fingers as they made the most mediocre coffee known to man.

The scheme of the coffee shop revolved around dark-brown wood finishes, with comfy-looking booths along the side walls lined with multi-colored pillows in turquoise, orange and white patterns. There were a few tables littering the main space, but not packed in the way some cafés tended to be. The seat cushions were all a deep maroon, complementing the rest of the décor. 

Eddie thought it was strange how the dark colors somehow seemed to make the place look bigger. The dichotomy between the wooden slats and seating, both by color and texture, somehow didn’t look out of place, either. 

_They must have a great interior designer_ , he thought to himself as he took in the people milling about. There weren’t many for eleven in the morning, but enough that Eddie could tell the establishment was popular.

Finally, he drank in the sight of the bar. The machines, from what he could see, were stainless steel and looked to be of the top-brand. There were a few coffee grinders lining the counter next to the stack of paper cups, and even those looked to be part of the whole aesthetic. Only one barista was hovering back and forth, but she didn’t look to be swamped at all, humming under her breath as she cleaned.

Taking a breath, Eddie brushed his fingers along the tattoo on the inside of his wrist as he approached the counter. It simply read the digits of his son’s birthday, and Eddie felt a little better about having his good luck charm here with him.

_V.VI.XI_

“Hi, I’m Eddie Diaz, I have an interview with Karen Wilson?”

“Oh! She should be here any minute. I’m Zay, the barista here,” she greeted enthusiastically, sticking a hand out. Eddie liked her instantly, reciprocating her handshake as a part of the tension bled out of him. 

“So...you guys are looking for a co-barista?” 

“Well, the summer’s coming to an end, and I’m a college student so I can’t work here full-time anymore. We used to have another guy that worked full-time when I couldn’t but he was...well, if I _have_ to put it politely, he was a piece of work,” she commented, before pausing to narrow her eyes at him. “You won’t be, will you?”

Eddie laughed. “No, I’ll try not to be.”

Zay shrugged. “Good enough for me. Would you like something to drink while you wait?”

“Um…just a plain latte, please. Thank you.”

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” someone piped up from behind him. Eddie turned to see a cheerful woman grin at the two of them. “I’m Karen Wilson.”

“Ah, no worries, I just got here myself. Eddie Diaz.”

Zay snorted, flapping a hand. “He’s been categorizing the place for the last ten minutes.”

Karen laughed at Eddie’s flush at that. “That’s a green flag in my opinion. You should know where you work. Let’s take a table in the corner?”

He relaxed a little as Karen walked around the counter to set the bag down. As Zay passed him his coffee and another mug that had to be Karen’s, she whispered a few tips under her breath. “Relax, she doesn’t bite. She’s the best boss in the universe, and I’ve had a lot of them, so I can tell. Just be yourself.”

He picked up the cups and stared down at the tattoo again. He could do this.

“So, Eddie, what brings you to Grayton?” Karen asked, thanking him for the coffee as he slipped into one of the seats across from her.

“Oh uh...a map,” he chuckled. “My son and I pointed fingers at a map one night, since we wanted to leave Texas, and we wound up here.”

“You made the move on a whim?” Instantly, Eddie tensed; clearly, that had been the wrong thing to say.

Karen sighed, setting her mug down to fix him with a look. “Eddie, this isn’t the Army. I’m not about to berate you if you’re honest. This is just a formal interview to make sure we don’t end up with another idiot behind the counter.”

“Sorry,” he cleared his throat, trying to relax. “Yeah, we did - sort of. We were looking for something that would slow us down a little, and Grayton had all the things we needed, and it’s less expensive than El Paso, too, so that helps a lot.”

“From Texas to Virginia? Damn, that must’ve been an adjustment. How’s your son taking it?”

Eddie laughed at the mention of Christopher, who’d just been bouncing off the walls of his truck to go to school that morning. “He was excited for sure. Practically vibrating when I took him to school today. He doesn’t have the first-day jitters, apparently.”

“What’s his name? He probably goes to school with my son, Denny. He’s seven.”

“His name’s Christopher. He’s seven, too and that would be nice if he does.” At least Chris would make a new friend on his first day. 

“Have you worked in a coffee shop before?”

“Through high school and a bit into college, too,” Eddie answered, twisting his fingers nervously on his lap. “I loved being able to experiment with the different flavours and syrups, trying to create something out of the box, or off the menu.”

“And you’re looking to make it a full-time job?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I think I just need to take a breather before I even think about anything else, if I do at all, and I’ve always loved working at a café like this. Seemed like a great place to apply when I saw the website.”

Karen gestured around to the booths. “It’ll get busy once the semester picks up, with students cramming in here for study sessions and all that college jazz. Zay will probably be one of them, too.”

“It’ll be nice to have a familiar face, then.”

“Yeah, pretty much, along with some regulars you’ll get to know within the next week.” Karen drained the last of her coffee before extending a stack of papers his way. “How about you finish your drink and read through this? I think you’ll fit in great here and if Zay already likes you, I think you’ve pretty much won half the battle.”

For a second, Eddie didn’t believe it. Hired on the spot?

“What…”

“I told you that this was just formal. I had to make sure you weren’t going to be like our last employee. Otherwise, all your contacts gave me glowing recommendations and so did your resume,” Karen smiled, patting the back of his hand. “Look through that and sign wherever I've flagged. I’ll set aside an apron and your name tag, and Zay can show you the ropes this week. Is starting today okay for you?”

“Absolutely,” he grinned before taking a deep breath. “It is, but I just want to be honest with you before we finalize this. I’m...I’m a single father to a kid with cerebral palsy, and while that doesn’t usually mean that I won’t show up for a shift or anything, I just want to let you know that there might be some things I need to schedule in advance, like school pickups or physical therapy appointments. I don’t want to blindside you from that.”

“I get it, Eddie,” she said kindly. “We’ll work around your schedule. Denny probably goes to school with Christopher, seeing that there’s only one elementary school. They can both get off the bus at the stop right around the corner, so when you’re both comfortable enough, I can show you that. It’ll save me or my wife from having to pick him up if he’s not going alone, too, so it’s a win-win situation.”

“I think Chris would like that,” Eddie smiled, marveling a little at his boss’ easy acceptance.

“Don’t worry. We’re a family here, we have each other’s backs.”

Moving to Grayton was so much more than he could have ever wished for. “Thank you.” He managed to stutter out a reply through the lump of relief in his throat. Karen only patted his hand again, smiling reassuringly.

As she got up and walked back to the bar, Eddie pressed two fingers to the tattoo again, thanking his lucky stars over and over again as he counted his pulse. He tried to push away any thoughts of the other shoe dropping, instead choosing to focus on the positives.

The contract was simple, nothing too out of the ordinary. He filled his information for payroll in the forms provided and signed his name at all the indicated spaces.

Setting the pen down, he stared at the loops and scratches of his signature, barely legible with his name. 

The last time he’d signed a form like the one in front of him, he’d done it to provide for his family. He’d done it for the benefits that let him settle the payments for the house in El Paso, for the new benefits that helped him get a house here in Grayton. He’d done it so they wouldn’t have to worry about the money for the bills, but a small part of him had also done it because he was terrified of all the new changes, of always drowning on dry land.

Now, he was signing for a change, a new beginning, a fresh start; he was signing this as a way to take his life in his own hands for once. 

The divorce had taken a lot out of both Christopher and Eddie, and moving to Grayton was quickly turning out to be the best decision they’d ever made. When Christopher had read the name under their fingers, he’d giggled a bit but asked Eddie if they could look it up. The two of them had spent an hour pouring over websites trying to make sure if the town had everything they’d need - physical therapy, schools, a place for a viable job, the VA, a _house_. 

It turned out that Grayton ticked every single item on their list, and just a few months after the divorce was finalized, Eddie and Christopher were packing up their life in El Paso, much to the indignation of his parents. But Eddie was sick of all the awed looks about the Silver Star, the pitied looks because his wife had left him before serving divorce papers, the judging looks because _he’d_ left his family to enlist. 

He needed a life where no one knew him. 

So, that landed them here, where Chris had a wonderful school, and Eddie found himself with a job and two potential friends, all within the span of an hour.

As Zay passed him the silver tag with “Eddie” branded in black letters and the black apron, quickly running him through the machines, he thought to himself that a small town life really had been a good idea.

Probably one of the best ones he’d had in years.

* * *

The next two weeks were filled with Eddie and Christopher settling into their new life, kind people stopping them on their walks through the park to welcome them to town. Eddie mused that people didn’t hesitate in stepping right up for people here, not like they did in Texas.

Case in point, Eddie had been hefting a few boxes out of the garage to bring into the house two days after getting hired and a few of his neighbours had noticed and immediately offered to come help out. Within three hours, they had the backyard set up with the chairs and porch swing Christopher loved, and Eddie had been left with a full fridge and at least half a dozen dinner invites.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t hectic for all these changes to come at once. He and Chris sat cross-legged in the living room, simultaneously watching movies and pulling out other dusty photos and decorations from more cardboard boxes, cleaning and arranging them around the house as they went. 

They unpacked all the kitchenware, quickly organizing them together as a team. Christopher stood faithfully next to Eddie to hand him nails so they could hang up photo frames, a cork board for his drawings and various other decorations. They spent an afternoon just building Chris’ room’s furniture. 

Slowly, the house began to look more like a home, and Grayton did, too.

They spent a few weekends exploring the various trails around the town, each tapering into forests of tall trees that were gorgeous as the sun set. They walked for as long as Christopher wanted to, before taking a break along some of the well-placed benches near the clear water. 

The clean, fresh air was something Eddie loved the most. There was nothing like the dust of the desert, or the perpetual dryness on the inside of his nose that never seemed to dissipate in Texas. This air was cool and refreshing, both Eddie and Christopher greedily inhaling the scent of pine as they leaned back against the worn wood, staring out into the reflection of the world in the lakes.

All of it was time with his son Eddie wouldn’t change for the world.

As for work, Karen was well-impressed with Eddie being a quick study, and even more so for the specialty drinks he’d been experimenting with. She’d added a whole new menu to the specials' board, “Eddie’s Experiments,” within three days of him being hired, something that made him glow with pride every time he looked at it.

It was one of these better days that Eddie watched his son walk in, flanked by his two new friends, Denny and Harry. Harry was Athena’s son, the cop who regularly came in for her daily black coffee, and he was a couple years older than Chris and Denny. Harry’s sister May would join them once the high school let out.

“Dad!” Christopher said excitedly when Eddie walked around the counter to pull him into a hug before greeting the other boys.

“Hey guys, how was school?”

“It was good, Mr. Diaz. Chris spelled all the words right in English class today.”

“Denny, how many times do I have to tell you to just call me Eddie?” he mock-scolded. “And that’s great, buddy! It looks like all that studying is paying off, right?” 

“Eddie, can we have orange juice?” Harry piped up, interrupting all talk of school. He laughed but reached into the freezer to pull out the juice boxes, along with their after-school snack.

“Here you go,” he passed them over to them. Harry and Denny squealed excitedly before dashing off to grab their regular table before someone else could.

“I think I like it here better than Texas,” Chris declared, going through his backpack to pull out the spelling test.

Eddie smiled at the red _100_ in the corner, ruffling his son’s hair as he laughed at the mini smiley-face his teacher had drawn. “Yeah, Chris. Me too.”

Chris put the test back into his bag, quickly telling him about the homework he had to finish before hightailing it to his friends. Eddie simply shrugged, glowing at his son’s victory. Spelling had definitely been a problem before, and he wasn’t saying that moving to Grayton improved it...but it undoubtedly gave Eddie the time to pay close attention to the things his son needed himself.

It wasn’t long before May came in, fuming. Instantly, he knew what the issue was, throwing her sugary drink together in hopes of cooling her down.

“Math again?”

That hit the nail right on the head, setting her off into a familiar rant. “He’s just so _stupid_ . He won’t teach well, won’t let us ask questions, and then we come home with grades like this and then he says that the class needs to do better,” she complained, extending a crumpled sheet of paper with a big _57_ on the top. “Who does all of that in the _first week of school?_ ”

It was filled with familiar equations and derivatives. Hmm...differential calculus; Eddie could help with that.

“Well...I could tutor you if you’d like?” he offered, sliding her drink down the counter, topped with extra whipped cream.

“You? In this?” May’s eyebrows shot up. Eddie briefly registered that he probably should be offended, but couldn’t bring himself to do anything but shrug.

“Yeah. I was good at calculus.”

May was already agreeing, thanking him profusely before joining her brother and his friends at the back table, where all three boys were still chomping on their snacks.

“You know, if you keep offering to pick up the slack around here, no one’s going to let you go,” Zay said, startling Eddie who hadn’t even noticed she’d come in. She grinned smugly at his obvious shock.

“Warn a guy, jeez,” he scolded. “And who says I’m going anywhere?”

Zay shrugged, coming around back to set her bag down and pull her apron from the hooks. “It’s a small town, people always come and go.”

“Is that what you do?”

“Nope,” she barked out a laugh. “I love Grayton too much. The big city life isn't for me.”

Eddie turned to where his son was plotting and conspiring with his new friends, thinking that a relaxing life in a state where there was no one he knew was exactly what he’d needed. The so-called "big city life" wasn't all that it was cut out to be. 

He didn’t think that’d ever change, and he sure as hell wasn’t going anywhere else. He told Zay as much.

“I think we’re beginning to love it, too.” 

* * *

“Hennnnnn,” Buck whined from where he’d collapsed in his friend’s desk chair, head tipped back to count the ceiling tiles as he spun lazily. “Help me!”

“I’m a surgeon, not a psychiatrist. Why don’t you try taking a vacation or something, instead of forcing yourself to work?” she said in a distracted voice. “Or try to write something else, clear your mind, meditate or whatever other juju helps.”

“I tried all of that, remember?”

“Well, what usually inspires you?”

“Reading, people, life,” he listed, finally dropping his head to look at her. “I need to get this next draft rolled out.”

Being a writer was the worst sometimes. It only worked when you had a muse, when you were inspired. Buck spent all too many days trying to capture the world through the lens of words that sometimes fit together, sometimes didn’t. But he needed something to work with, and without any inspiration, he was stumbling around blindly.

He wouldn’t change it for anything, though; he loved the opportunity to create worlds readers could escape to. He loved being able to draft characters that were more grey than black and white, characters that made people think - the type of characters that _stayed_ with his readers.

As an avid reader himself, Buck would know.

By far the worst part of it all, was this lack of inspiration that had been hitting him for the past two weeks. He hadn’t gone that long without writing in _years -_ hence, why he was now seeking Hen’s opinion on how to fix his lack of motivation to do _anything_.

“Well, you like coffee, right? Why don’t you go sit in Karen’s café? Maybe seeing young people will spark some inspiration,” Hen advised, still sorting through the new shipment of tools in front of her.

“I _am_ young people, Henrietta.”

“Call me Henrietta again, and this scalpel goes through you.”

Buck waved off the threat. “You love me too much.” He thought about the proposition. He did love Serendipity and it’d been a while since he’d gotten a chance to go over. “You know what. Maybe I actually will go sit there for once instead of grabbing my drink and rushing off.”

“Anything as long as it gets you out of my office.”

“I’m a _delight_ to have here,” he scoffed, ducking under her swat with a loud laugh. He blew her a cheeky kiss as he left the clinic, ignoring her fond grumbling behind him.

It really had been a while since he’d gone to Serendipity, because he normally worked from home and he had a perfectly intact coffee maker there. Still, he was desperate for inspiration, so he took his friend’s suggestion, climbing into his Jeep.

Perhaps this would work - couldn’t hurt to try.

* * *

Hen had decidedly _not_ told him about the hot new barista behind the counter. 

Buck was stuck in the doorway, just watching the man grin at a customer, scribbling something down on one of those takeaway cups - probably a name.

It wasn’t like Buck hadn’t seen attractive men before; he was told that he himself was objectively attractive, and he had a mirror that told him that perhaps he actually _was_ attractive. But something about the confident barista had his pulse quickening, mind racing as he watched the man mix and pour, all while keeping up a steady stream of conversation with the laughing customer. Buck felt like a teenager infatuated with his first crush.

Startled by the jingle of the bell behind him, he quickly shifted out of the way, moving towards a booth in the far corner that looked particularly inviting. It gave him a great view of the entire coffee shop and the windows overlooking the sidewalk outside. Coincidentally, it also gave him an up-close-and-personal view of the barista, too.

Not that _that_ was the motivation - not at all. Psht.

Buck pulled out his laptop, a legal pad full of unintelligible scribbles, a pen and his reading glasses, setting up shop before he went up to order. He used the few moments to psych himself up, reminding himself that he was getting coffee, not going out on a date.

That plan went straight out of the window the second the unfairly sexy man opened his mouth. “Hi, what can I get for you?”

He was already in over his head at the very first syllable. A quick glance to the silver tag on his apron told him the barista’s name was Eddie, and that voice told him he wasn’t from around here at all. Eddie looked to be around the same age as him, if not a couple years older, with sweeps of dark, fluffy hair, stubble on his jaw and a bone structure that looked to be carved out of stone. 

Clearly, Buck had been silent too long because the barista was now looking back at him with a raised eyebrow. He flushed and looked past Eddie for the first thing on the menu.

“Can I get the cinnamon cappuccino?”

Buck wasn’t even sure he _liked_ cinnamon, but it _was_ fall so that should be reason enough.

As Eddie asked for his name and swiped his card through the reader, Buck thought to himself that the man fit perfectly here. He was kind, warm, welcoming - three things that reminded him of coffee off the bat.

Buck stole the few moments Eddie spent preparing his coffee to watch him again, contemplating whatever brought the guy to their small town in Virginia. Grayton wasn’t famous for anything; they were a quaint little town surrounded by forests, with mountain ranges peeking from the tops of trees in the distance and sporadic lakes. It was a gorgeous town, but the most they got were people driving through to the next town over. 

There was a string of numbers on the inside of his left wrist, reading 5.6.11 in Roman numerals. He cocked his head as he let his eyes trail past the elegant fingers, the strong forearms dusted lightly with hair, the rolled-up sleeves, the bob of his Adam’s apple as he hummed to himself, the slight curve of his lips. 

Somehow, it was endearing the way Eddie moved to and from the espresso machine fluidly, mixing random things together in an art only he knew of, a practiced grace to his movements that was peculiar of such a tall man. He didn’t look to be a talkative person; he was definitely the type of person to hold a conversation smoothly without letting the awkwardness hang over them, but he could also sit in a comfortable silence with someone.

Buck envied him. 

Suddenly, his fingers itched to get back to his laptop, to map out this vision using oddly-shaped letters and multitudes of words that somehow made sense when strung along with properly placed punctuation.

Funny how his absent muse roared to life at the sight of one sexy barista.

“Buck?”

Clearly he’d been called more than once but his mouth went completely dry at the sound of his name on Eddie’s tongue.

 _Holy hell, can he say my name again?_

Buck immediately felt like an idiot at that, knowing he was making a fool out of himself - especially since the barista had likely called him multiple times already.

“Thanks,” he mustered, giving Eddie his smoothest grin before turning away, cringing at himself as he walked back to his booth, cinnamon-scented steam tickling his nose. 

Buck would deny it till the day he died but Hen was right when she said that sitting in Karen’s café would help spark something because merely watching the barista had a whole spiel of ideas threading together in his mind.

So, he set his fingers to the keyboard, opened up a new document and began to write.

* * *

Eddie let out a breath as the tall, blond drink of water moved back to his table.

It’d been a while since he’d taken interest in anyone, but his reaction to this one man was almost instant and visceral. Buck had to be the cutest, most attractive man he’d ever seen.

Should he really be calling a man who was a couple inches taller than him and several inches broader, cute?

Probably not.

Was he going to anyway?

Hell, _yes_.

Eddie watched as Buck took a sip of his specialty drink. He’d seen the unsure look on his face when the man had ordered, coupled with the faint dusting of pink across his cheeks; well-familiar with cinnamon not being everyone’s cup of tea (or coffee, in this case), Eddie had foregone the flavoured syrup, instead frothing the milk with the actual spice instead.

He personally hated the aftertaste of the coffee syrups, especially in hot beverages, because he wasn’t the biggest fan of sugar to begin with. He preferred to use the real deal when he could, which wasn’t all that often because some of the syrups just couldn’t be replicated.

It seemed that Buck had lucked out here.

Satisfaction coursed through him at the surprised look at Buck’s face. The man looked up from his makeshift workstation to give him an impressed look and a thumbs-up. Eddie flushed at the attention but grinned easily back at him.

As he turned to wipe down mugs and the counter again, he found his gaze drifting periodically to where Buck was sitting, close enough that Eddie could see him completely in his peripheral vision without making it obvious that he _was_ looking.

Buck seemed to be clacking away at his keyboard with an ease that only came from meticulous repetition. God knew Eddie would never be able to type that fast.

It reminded Eddie of an artist, almost. The way everything was done in some sort of precision, even if it didn’t seem like that - deliberate strokes over a blank canvas, turning mere paint into a plethora of design and color and shape and pattern. He wondered what Buck did, curiosity pushing at him.

The jingle of the bell above the door took his attention off Buck for a while, a gaggle of teenage girls coming in with a list of modified specialty drinks that made his head spin just looking at it.

Who put caramel syrup in cotton-candy flavoured drinks, anyway?

It wasn’t the weirdest thing he’d seen, and it wasn’t his job to question either way, so he dutifully went through all five orders, somehow taking a full ten minutes to pull together all of them with the never-ending list of additions to the base recipe. The long lists of modifications were by far the worst part of the job.

“Teenagers,” Eddie mumbled under his breath as he chanced a glance at the clock. Only two hours until Christopher would burst through the door with Denny and Harry hot on his heels.

It was this lull in business that made Eddie more bored than ever. Sighing to himself, he looked around the multitudes of people working, none of which looked to be in need of service. The floors were clean, the counters wiped down and nothing needed restocking. 

Pulling out the book Zay had recommended, Eddie flipped back to where he’d left off. 

He would never live it down if people had found out he actually loved a good romance novel now and then, but here, things were different. The thing was...he was particular about which authors he read, because some stories were filled with themes that set him on edge.

He didn’t venture out from his comfort zone too often, but Zay had pressed the book into his hand, citing that he needed to read it immediately. 

“I wasn’t even a fan of romance before this guy. Trust me on this,” she’d said.

So he did and she was right. This particular author had him sucked in from the very start - sometimes to the point where Eddie didn’t even hear customers come in, his situational awareness shot straight to hell.

(which was abjectly a very big problem, all things considered)

Whoever E.B. Stark was, they’d written an amazing piece of work. Every emotion was carefully crafted in a mix of twenty-six letters, real and heartbreaking to the point where Eddie was almost discreetly checking his face for traitorous tears. 

It wasn’t that the prose was full of flowers and metaphors and comparisons; it was that each and every experience they narrated was construed to be multidimensional. It was that none of the characters were perfect people that spoke to Eddie the most.

_“It’s hard to feel like...to feel like you’re worth being a reason for someone to stay for once. Doesn’t mean I’m blaming myself for her not staying, but it just feels like I wasn’t even worth an answer. I just...I wasn’t enough.”_

The words knocked the wind out of him, grating on the rough edges still left over from the divorce.

He'd found himself repeating the same words in his mind when insecurities got the better of him.

It wasn’t that Eddie was perfect; he’d made _plenty_ mistakes, but he knew he’d tried to atone for them. He’d tried his hardest to be what Shannon needed when he got his head out of his ass, when he finally realized that marriages weren’t just provider-benefactor, when he finally stepped up to be an actual husband.

But she hadn’t wanted him, and she hadn’t wanted Christopher. She hadn’t been willing to try, and Eddie could admit that to himself now that he was out of the shadow of his parents’ reminders that he’d fucked up by leaving first, but he’d never had the intention of leaving forever. He hadn’t wanted to.

It made Eddie angry sometimes, how easily Shannon left after his last tour and then came back to serve him papers and leave _again_ , without so much as a word - how ready she was to leave her child, not once, but _twice_ in less than a year. Even angrier when the last thing she said to him before filing the papers was that she couldn’t do this anymore, her gesture clear towards Christopher.

That was unforgivable in Eddie’s eyes, no matter what else had transpired between them. Shannon leaving had left an imprint about his CP being a reason for people to leave in Christopher’s eyes, and that was something Eddie didn’t want around his son. So, he immediately signed the papers, and started putting in double the work to make sure Chris knew that Eddie was always on his side, that nothing could make him leave.

It had been all of that had planted the seed of both of them getting away together, and Grayton had been brilliant for them. Chris was happier than Eddie had ever seen him, and that’s all he ever wanted.

Eddie shook his head of the thoughts as the bell jingled again, setting the book aside and plastering a smile on his face before he went to take the man’s order.

“Hi, what can I get you?”


	2. Chapter 2

“So, what’s your story?” Buck worked up the courage to ask by the fifth visit. 

He’d come in every day, and every one of those days, Eddie had been on shift.

It had Buck thanking his lucky stars for the café because in the past five days, he’d written more than he had in two weeks. Plus there was just the added bonus of a sexy little barista who made a mean drink - Buck ordered the exact same thing every single day, finding out later that it had been on a menu called ‘Eddie’s Experiments.’

“My story?” Eddie tossed him a confused look as he pressed the grounds into the portafilter. “That’s an interesting question.”

Buck shrugged. “I’m a writer, I love stories. You’re clearly not from the East Coast, so I’m wondering what brought you to Grayton.”

It was only after the words left his mouth that Buck winced at how invasive they sounded. This was why he preferred to hide behind the words on his computer. 

Thankfully, Eddie didn’t seem offended at all, instead choosing to laugh at the assessment. “Well, it’s not much. Couple tours in the Army, needed life to slow down, landed myself in Grayton.”

“The Army?” Buck’s eyebrows shot way up, disappearing into his hairline. That would explain a couple of things - the impressive physique and the straight body language that Eddie seemed to have even when he was casually leaning against the counter.

“Yeah,” he said shortly. Something about his tone was off, though he wasn't rude about. Buck didn’t push the matter, welcome Eddie's change of subject. “What do you write?”

“Oh um, I’m working on a series right now.”

“Do you write under a pen-name?”

“Mhm, yup.” He didn’t offer more than that; he had his own secrets. “So, is life slowing down for you here?”

“You know what? It actually is,” Eddie mused. “Texas was pretty wild for a while, and now I have time to do things that I want to without having to work three jobs to keep up. I get to take a minute or two to just breathe and observe.”

“Texas?” Buck whistled under his breath. “All the way from there, to here? That’s one hell of a journey.”

“It’s alright,” Eddie shrugged, though he looked mildly pleased with himself. “Are you from here?”

“I was born in Hershey, Pennsylvania, but I moved here maybe ten years ago?” He’d taken off after high school, on a road trip of sorts before he found this town and fell in love with it. 

“Interesting,” Eddie said, sliding his cup over to him before pausing, gesturing towards the glass display with all of Karen’s infamous desserts. “Did you say you wanted something to go with that?”

Buck smacked his forehead, exasperated with his mind sometimes. “I did, I wanted cake but I forgot which ones you have today.”

“Banana, lemon and…” Eddie trailed off, sticking his head to peer into the display, “...chocolate.”

“Lemon,” he said instantly. Karen’s lemon cake was the best thing he’d ever tasted, hands down. It wasn’t too sweet, nor too sour, and had the best texture that didn’t stick to his teeth.

“Evan Buckley, is that you?” The woman in question’s voice came from behind him, mildly teasing. Buck grinned widely, jumping off his seat to pull her into a hug. “Where the hell have you been?”

“No, you don’t get to put this on me, I’ve been here every day for the past five days,” he laughed. “Just ask Eddie!”

He instantly saw the mock-anger fade in place a mischievous look that had him flustered, holding back an internal groan as Karen smirked. She reminded him exactly of her wife at that moment, because God only knew how many times Buck had been on the other end of Hen’s famous looks.

Blissfully, she didn’t say anything, moving around to greet Eddie and set her bag behind the counter. “How’s your draft going?”

Buck sighed, settling back in his chair. “I went two weeks without writing a single word, and Hen told me to come here. It’s finally coming together now.”

“My wife is a very smart woman,” Karen gave him a knowing look. “I’m totally telling her this.”

“Can I pay you to not? I’m never gonna hear the end of it,” he groaned, leading Eddie to laugh at him. Karen only shrugged, completely unsympathetic but she did him a solid when she turned to her barista.

“Why don’t you take your break, Eddie? I’ve got it for a bit.”

“Are you sure?”

Karen nodded, shooing him away from the counter. “You work too hard. Go sit with Buck or something.”

This was literally the best suggestion he’d heard. Buck could _kiss_ Karen for it, so before Eddie had time to say no, he blurted out, “yeah, let’s go.”

Karen was still smirking behind Eddie and Buck gave her his best stink-eye slash grateful look when Eddie turned to hang up his apron, grabbing a bottle of water and two slices of lemon cake out of the display.

“You sure you don’t mind me joining you?”

“Absolutely not, I could use the company. And the cake,” Buck laughed, slipping into his side of the booth and moving his stuff away. 

“How’d you start writing?” Eddie asked, wrapping nimble fingers around his bottle. 

“Oh, uh I realized that I was always better with words like this. I used to write in a bunch of diaries, and I pulled them out one day and realized that some of them could be pieced together,” Buck explained, breaking off a piece of the cake. “It’s always been a hobby, but the first novel that I published did well, so I just….you know, continued on with it. I love it though, wouldn’t change it for the world.”`

“It sounds fun. I can hear you typing away all the way over there,” he teased, laughing at Buck’s affronted look.

He simply shook his head, turning the conversation back to Eddie. “How’d you get to coffee? Seems like a big switch after the Army.”

“Oh no, I worked in a shop in high school and college, way before enlisting was even on the radar. There was a café almost in a triangle between my house, high school and college, so it was the same distance for me to walk or bike. A guy named Morty had opened it, and I stumbled across the job posting because I wanted to make some cash. I didn’t think I’d like it as much as I do.”

“Well you got me liking cinnamon, so that’s something going for you.”

Eddie barked out a laugh, almost choking on his own bite of cake. “That first day, I could tell you were unsure about the whole cinnamon thing. Most people are.”

Buck’s heart stopped in his chest as a wild flush spread across his face. If Eddie had noticed that, then he’d definitely noticed whatever had been going on in his mind as he took the barista in for the first time. And he was definitely taking in his embarrassment now.

Determined to look somewhat unbothered by the keen observation skills, Buck leaned back in his chair, changing the subject to something random.

They talked all through Eddie’s break, keeping things light and breezy. Watching him walk away, Buck was struck with how many layers there truly were to Eddie Diaz. 

Another bout of inspiration hit him, but this time, he started writing it all long-hand, sketching the man out in letters. He was faster on the keyboard, sure, but somehow, branding the words into paper with ink had Buck more sure of the fact that Eddie wasn’t a mirage, or a figment of his imagination, or whatever other flowery words he could find that Hen would laugh at him for.

It should’ve been scary, because he’d known Eddie for all of one week, but Buck wasn’t about to put a timeline on this. He’d see where it went, where it took him, even though he was scared shitless of what all of this meant.

Hopefully, it’d be something good.

“So, what do you think?”

“Of what?” he replied, not even looking up at Karen as she slid in next to him, continuing to write in small, neat letters as he sipped on the coffee.

“Of my new barista.”

“I think...that Hen should’ve warned me that it wasn’t you I was going to see here. Where have you been for the past five days anyway?”

“You’re not the only one that works from home,” Karen shot back. “But seriously, what do you think? You were spot on with your impression of the last one.”

“He’s a great fit here,” Buck answered honestly. “Not that I’m here to endorse your baristas, but he’s not an asshole, he isn’t a pervert and he respects people.”

“For such nice people in this town, we’ve definitely had a few rotten apples,” she shook her head looking back over to where Eddie was flitting around, easily assembling the beverages. “I lucked out with him and Zay.”

Buck wanted so badly to ask if Eddie was available, but Karen was his boss, and neither of them would cross that professional line. Besides, it wasn’t like Buck to be twisted into knots about someone; he was the confident one, the one who had an answer for everything.

For some reason, Eddie took all of that and turned him into an awkward mess that couldn’t tell his head from his tail at times. Still, he was determined to find out if he even stood a chance, no matter how long it’d take.

Karen, because she was Karen, clearly saw his mind running, because she spoke up. “You know why I named this shop Serendipity?”

“Something to do with Hen, right?”

“A little bit, yeah,” she agreed. “It’s basically...when good things happen to you even when you’re not looking for them. Hen came into my life when I wasn’t looking for her, but she changed it in ways I couldn’t imagine. I don’t think I would’ve opened this café without her. Her becoming a doctor was one of those things, too. It’s like a chain of good things that happen to you so life slips into place, even when you don’t seem them coming.”

Buck smiled at that, even though he still didn’t get her point. She rolled her eyes, leaning forward to tap the top of the legal pad. “For a writer, you can be _very_ dense. I just mean, stop doubting that you can have good things without looking for them. I can see it on your face a mile away, but Buck, you deserve to be happy, too. So trust that.”

She left him with those words, Buck staring down at the paper where he’d unknowingly branded a single word underneath everything he’d written about Eddie before.

_Serendipity._

Huh. Maybe Karen was onto something.

* * *

_Trailing his fingers along the cuff of James’ pants, Brandon dipped his head to place a small kiss on his ankle bone before sliding his hand up the side of James’ body to where the waistband nestled against tan skin, scraping the denim against his hypersensitive skin._

_James let out a breathy groan as Brandon traveled upwards. Popping open the button on his jeans, he slid them off, leaving him in just boxer briefs._

_Leaning down again, Brandon placed kisses all along James’ leg, periodically blowing cool air on the skin and lingering everywhere except where James needed him most. He tugged eagerly on Brandon’s hair but Brandon didn’t let up, smirking in amusement at his boyfriend’s impatience._

_He traveled further north until he reached the soft skin of James’ inner thigh, where he suckled another hickey into existence, lighting nipping with his teeth. Moving upwards, Brandon-_

“What’s that you’re reading?”

Eddie nearly jumped all the way out of his skin at the sound of Buck’s voice, face flushing bright red as he slammed the cover closed - as if the entire scene was playing right out on the pages for the whole world to see.

“Uh, just a novel,” he stammered, clutching it tightly as he stood up. “Your usual?”

Buck ignored the obvious attempt to change the subject, a light in his eyes that Eddie had usually only seen at his laptop. “Ooh, I love reading. Can I see?”

 _Here goes nothing_.

Eddie handed the book over reluctantly, watching a strange look pass over Buck’s face. Already anticipating the teasing, he busied himself with washing his hands to prepare his coffee so Eddie could die of humiliation sooner rather than later.

“Oh, I’ve heard of this author, people say they’re good. You like them?”

He didn’t know what to do with the relief that flooded him at the lack of judgement in Buck’s voice, but it gave him the courage to start speaking, even as he studied the other man warily. “Yeah, actually. I love reading, and Zay recommended that one to me. She said she doesn’t even like romance novels but that book is one of her top picks.”

“What about you?”

Eddie hummed, adding cinnamon to the milk. “I like them a lot. They’re moving up to be one of my favourites, honestly.”

Buck arched a brow, leaning on the counter. “Oh?”

“Yup. I’m particular about the types of romance books I read because sometimes they have things that are just...weird. Problematic. Like I don’t like the ones where they romanticize the military, or jump from one thing to another, or don’t do their research about certain things.”

“Yeah I don’t like those either,” he agreed. “So what makes this one different?”

Eddie took a minute to think about it as he poured the now-frothed spiced milk, twisting his wrist with a flourish that had Buck laughing. “It’s real,” he settled on. “The characters are relatable because they aren’t perfect, but they don’t glorify things that shouldn’t be glorified, if that makes sense? This author’s writing makes the reader feel things and they can do it without using elaborate language. If this book is anything to go off of, then they’re amazing.”

Buck flipped through the copy, nodding along to the assessment. “Sounds like you have a pretty good grasp of it.”

“Nope,” Eddie laughed. “I just have a habit of thinking about the things I read.”

“It’s a great habit for a reader to have.” A moment of silence and then, “and the sex?” 

Buck grinned cheekily but Eddie nearly choked on his own tongue, face burning even brighter. “What?”

The man had the audacity to laugh at his shocked look, which only made him glower in response. Buck waved it off. “A lot of romance books have sex in them. Sometimes it’s written well, and sometimes it’s just laughable with the word choices and all that. Which is it?”

“Um..I guess it’s good?” How do you even answer that question? For Eddie who’d virtually never talked about _any_ book he’d read, let alone one with sex scenes, he was way out of his depth here. “You’d have to read it yourself.”

Buck only made a noncommittal noise in his throat, flipping the pages open until he found what he was looking for. Eddie watched his eyes scan the page, taking the distraction to study the man further. A smirk spread across his face, and Eddie realized with a jolt that Buck was _reading the scene in front of him_.

“It’s pretty hot. Thanks, Eddie,” Buck winked before picking the cup saucer up and walking back to his usual table. Eddie stared open-mouthed behind him before slowly reaching for the book again.

Buck was right - the scene _had_ been hot, enough to make him flush at reading it. Definitely not something he should’ve been reading behind the bar of a coffee shop in broad daylight. 

He started turning the page back to where he left off, before thinking better of it and just shoving the book back where they kept it. No way was he about to finish that scene if Buck thought it was hot.

Well...he could read another scene. He’d never get sick of this book, so he pulled it back out and flipped back to one of his favourite scenes. Brushing his fingers over a quote, Eddie snuck a look at Buck.

_But then he walks into my life, and for once...I feel like I matter. Not for him, not for anyone else, but for myself._

Like he said...real.

* * *

“Actually, you know what? Surprise me this time,” Buck said one morning, grinning widely at him from over the counter. Eddie laughed but nodded, making sure he wasn’t allergic to anything before turning to the machines.

Clearly it was time to pull out one of his hidden talents: latte art.

Buck’s eyes sparked with the challenge as he tracked Eddie around the space, paying attention to everything he was doing. Eddie laughed again, throwing Buck an exasperated look. “How am I supposed to surprise you if you keep watching me?”

“I like watching you.” The portafilter nearly dropped from his hand as his head shot up to take in the light blush and impish grin on Buck’s face. 

_Oh_ , like that was it?

“Well, stow it, Buckley. Gotta keep you on your toes,” he winked, turning away so he could internally smack himself. He may have been out of this game for far too long, but he recognized an attempt to flirt when he saw one. 

He still made the same drink Buck normally ordered, but he threw in a few extra ingredients - a little vanilla syrup, a sprinkle of nutmeg. Tiny things that would make a world of difference in the flavour of the drink, especially mixed with cinnamon.

The biggest change was that instead of the various leaves he managed to make with the cinnamon-frothed milk, he made a peacock instead. A couple extra twists of the wrist and a boatload of concentration later, he had a decent-looking bird staring up at him.

Well, it was nice to know that talent hadn’t gone anywhere.

Eddie set the cup in front of Buck, who laughed as he noticed the new design.

“Touché, Eddie, touché.”

He rolled his eyes, leaning back against the counter. “I changed the actual drink too, genius. Take a sip and find out.”

Buck shrugged and lifted the cup to his lips. The open anticipation and eagerness reminded Eddie vaguely of a golden retriever. It was gratifying to be appreciated in that way; normally, people swiped their cups and left without a word.

“Holy shit, what did you do to it? It tastes even better than before.”

“Vanilla and nutmeg,” he replied. Buck’s easy approval went down smoother than any drink he could make, and made him warmer, too. Clearing his throat, he turned away to take the used dishes over to the sink, hopefully hiding whatever expression was on his face.

Buck gave him a cursory good-bye as he headed to his table. Eddie ran through the other possible animals or designs he could try out later in his head - ones that his hands still knew how to make.

So over the course of the next two weeks, they went through a plethora of them. Eddie really only did the designs with Buck, just because he knew Buck wouldn’t flip out on him if the design didn’t really look like anything. 

Worst case scenario was the bear that ended up looking more like a blob of nothing. It took a few days to get that one right, but he’d managed it.

So far they’d tried a seahorse, a ghost, an elephant, a swan, some random designs of branches, an ambitious sunset, a panda, some breed of dog and a cat that ended up looking more rat-like than anything else.

“What haven’t we tried yet?” Buck asked.

“Are you sure you want a second cup right now, in the first place?” Eddie raised an eyebrow, swiping at the counter right in front of Buck’s folded arms. He never ordered anything after 12; at least, nothing caffeinated. In fact, he was here later than he usually was, which was strange on its own.

“I didn’t say _I_ was going to drink it,” he defended.

“Then I’m not gonna make it. At this point, I think we’ve tried everything I know and remember how to do.” He thought about it for a second. “What if we used food coloring?”

Buck’s eyes lit up. “A _blue_ swan.”

Eddie laughed at that. “I was _kidding_. Any amount of food coloring is probably going to stain your face. You’ll turn into a smurf.”

“Blue’s my color, Eddie. You just don’t know,” he insisted, eyes alight with mischief.

There it was again - the shift from their easy banter to that playful flirtatiousness. Eddie wondered if that energy between them just thrummed beneath the surface, surfacing at random times meant to catch him off-guard. 

“I’m sure it is, Buck, but even you can’t pull the blue stains off.”

Buck laughed at the quip, turning in his seat at the sound of the bell. Eddie looked past him to find three familiar boys. He chuckled, setting the cup he was wiping down back in its spot as Christopher, Denny and Harry stumbled in, chattering excitedly among themselves.

“Dad!” Christopher yelled out, bringing a wider smile to his face immediately. Eddie walked around the counter to haul his son into a bear hug.

Distracted as he was, he didn’t notice Buck’s stricken look at the way Chris addressed him. 

Denny and Harry noticed the man sitting on the bar stools in front of the counter, and made a beeline to him immediately.

“Buck! You know I beat Mom in that game you showed me,” Denny started gleefully, going on and on about how he’d beaten Karen multiple times. Buck laughed and ruffled his hair, turning to ask Harry a question about his stepdad, Bobby.

Eddie watched him interact with the two boys, his arms still around his own son. He hadn’t realized just how much Buck was integrated in this small town, though he’d known of his and Karen’s closeness. Clearly that closeness extended towards the kids too.

“Who’s that, Dad?” Christopher asked. The words caught Buck’s attention, because he grinned at the two of them. Eddie snapped out of his thoughts and led Christopher over.

“Oh, right, let me introduce you. Buck, this is my son, Christopher. Chris, this is Buck.”

“Hi, Buck!” Ever the people person, Christopher immediately started a full conversation with the man, Buck holding his own against the onslaught of questions from the curious child. Eddie was reeling a little bit at how quickly they seemed to have clicked, Buck just as engrossed in Christopher's questions. It was something he didn't normally see, an adult talking so enthusiastically with a child.

“Eddie, can we have our hot chocolate now?” Harry asked, breaking him from his stupor.

“Yup. Take this with you, Karen made it for you guys.” He pulled out a tray of sandwiches from the cooler and passed it to Denny. “I’ll drop your drinks off.”

The boys rushed off immediately, pacified at the fact that they didn’t have to do any work. He turned to Buck who was watching him critically.

“Is that Chris’ birthday on your wrist?” he asked.

Eddie laughed, extending his left arm. “Yeah. You didn’t know about Christopher? You seemed surprised that I have a son.”

He held his breath as Buck brushed hesitant fingers over the numbers, nestled as they were against his pulse. He wondered if Buck could feel his heartbeat pick up and race at the gentle action.

“You only mentioned him a few times by name, and never by calling him your son. I just assumed that he was your brother or something,” Buck replied, dropping his hand and looking past him at Chris.

“Nah, just two sisters. One older and one younger. But yeah, Chris is my world.” He hesitated a little, staring down at where he was using two-percent milk to make the kids’ hot chocolate. “His mother’s not in the picture. We got divorced before Chris and I moved to Grayton.”

He looked back up at Buck, a little taken aback by the relief in the other man’s face.

Suddenly he was struck with how this would’ve seemed for a son to randomly show up - Buck must’ve thought he was married. For all their flirtations over the past few weeks, the possibility would’ve thrown him off. 

The thought had a little hope flaring in him. Buck was just so inherently _good_. If he was relieved that Eddie was single...maybe he actually had a chance here.

Eddie realized a little too late that the silence had stretched too thin. An air of awkwardness settled between them.

“You and Chris seemed to get along,” Eddie changed the subject. Buck perked up, turning towards him with a blinding smile that broke whatever weird limbo they’d found themselves in.

“Oh I-uh...I love kids,” he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "My sister, Maddie and her husband Chimney have a daughter, but they live an hour away, so I don't get to see them as often as I like. Michael, Harry's dad, was the contractor on my house which is how I met the Grant kids. And obviously, Hen's my closest friend.”

Eddie smiled at the image. “It’s a good quality to have. Before Chris, I didn’t know how to talk to children at all. I was the awkward uncle.” Eddie topped the drinks off with whipped cream. “Give me a second.”

He dropped the three mugs off with the kids who were now making airplanes out of their sandwiches. Then, thinking better of it, he went back to drop off napkins, too. Buck laughed at him for that. “Okay, you being a dad makes so much _sense_ now.”

“Because I wanted to prevent a sandwich disaster?” he teased, completely relieved that being a single dad didn’t send his friend running.

“Nah, the dad instinct,” he joked. “Wanting to be prepared for every outcome.”

Eddie sighed. “Too many accidents seen. Juice spills, vegetable stuck under tables, greasy handprints all over the place, _crumbs_. And I have another outcome for you - you’re going to have to get up, because May’s about to get her calculus tutoring.” He pointed toward where the girl was coming in.

Buck whistled under his breath. “Damn, Eddie! Barista, hot dad, adorable kid _and_ a math whiz? You’ve got everything working for you. You’re giving me a complex. Imposter syndrome or something.”

Eddie’s mind screeched to a halt at Buck’s dramatic lamenting that was somehow complimentary. Before he could even think up an appropriate response, Buck was moving past him to say goodbye to the kids, ruffling May's hair on the way out. 

“Bye, Eddie,” he grinned as he walked past the counter. Eddie managed to strangle out some resemblance of a laugh and wave as he left, feeling like an awkward teenager fumbling with his crush.

“He’s got the hots for you,” May said off the bat, plopping her bag down on Buck’s vacated seat. The man had just called him ‘hot dad’ so clearly she was right - not that he’d admit it.

“‘Hots for you?’ Is that something kids these days actually say?” Eddie asked skeptically as he flipped the blender on for her drink.

“ _So_ not the point,” she muttered, pulling her notebook out. “Point is, ask him out, you two reek of tension and you're both embarrassing yourself.”

It was kind of pathetic to be getting love advice from a teenager, but May was also one of the brightest people he knew regardless of her age. She was probably one of the only teenagers he’d heed advice from.

“We do not,” he said lamely, face hot at the thought. May rolled her eyes but extended a math worksheet his way, blissfully ending the conversation.

Even as he started teaching her second and third derivatives of a given function, his mind raced with potential ways to maybe ask Buck out. He hadn’t asked anyone out in close to what had to be eight or nine years now, but he knew enough about the man to realize that Buck would probably like someone _showing_ him they appreciated him.

A lightbulb went off in his mind as he noted down the derivative formulae on a sticky-note for May.

Hm...for a romantic like Buck, that would be interesting.

* * *

The pack of sticky notes that he bought were pretty subdued. They weren’t purple like May’s, or bright-green or cobalt-blue like the ones he’d seen Buck scribble on.

These were a plain pale-yellow, standard and nondescript. He could hide them in his apron, and one would have to look pretty closely to garner a look.

Eddie had seen a lot of videos of people who wrote cute notes on the side of paper takeout cups, covering the words with the sleeve to stop anyone else from reading them. He obviously couldn’t do that with the ceramic mugs, so he had to improvise a little.

Sticky notes should be enough, hopefully. 

It still took him two days to make sure that he wanted to risk this.

The first day that he set his resolve, Buck waltzed in wearing a blue, short-sleeved button down that hugged his biceps and tapered down his body to black jeans. So there went the first note, scribbled hastily while Buck got his laptop set up at his regular booth.

_Blue really is your color._

Eddie folded the square carefully into fourths, just small enough to tuck underneath the ceramic mug. It was difficult to do that and maintain a conversation about airplane dynamics with him, but he managed it.

That first day, he couldn’t even look up to garner Buck’s reaction. He kept his back to the man the whole time, afraid of what would show on his face if he snuck a look. That wasn’t to say that he couldn’t feel Buck’s eyes on him; he just didn’t meet them.

The second and third days were similar. One for how adorable Buck looked when he worked and another when Eddie noticed balls of crumpled paper littering the table, Buck scribbling furiously behind them.

_You’re cute when you’re concentrating :P_

_You’ll find the words._

Eddie folded the papers up, slipped them quietly underneath the cup before Buck came to order, and passed it off to him. He still didn’t look at him at all, too afraid of his armor being obliterated with one look.

Zay and Karen had picked up on it immediately. “You know you need to actually _look_ at him?” Zay had said, Karen humming her agreement inconspicuously in the back.

“No, I don’t,” he’d replied.

It was the fourth day that curiosity got the better of him, as it always did. Buck didn’t bring the notes up at all - not as he ordered, not as they chatted across the bar, not as he said goodbye. So, neither did Eddie. Still, he had to know.

For this fourth note, he wrote _I know this is going off on a tangent, but what's your sine, cos I want to know._

It was a math joke, and Eddie prayed it didn’t sound too awkward as he filled the cup with Buck’s regular drink, handing it off to him with a smile. Then, he positioned himself the same way he had that very first day, where he could see Buck through his peripheral vision without making it too obvious.

Buck bypassed the first sip of his drink, immediately lifting the cup to find the folded square. Eddie was taken aback by the wide grin on his face and the sound of his laughter, but relief pounded into him, hard and unyielding. 

Even more gratifying, Buck tucked the new note into his laptop bag.

So Eddie continued with them. They weren’t always math pick-up lines or compliments; sometimes he threw in one of Christopher’s favourite jokes or some little quote he liked, or whatever other random thing popped into mind. Still, there was never a response specifically about them, which only confused him further.

“I’ve already started doing it, why would I stop now?” he told Zay on the seventh day. 

“He’s grinning like the Cheshire Cat and he looks adorable, so whatever you’re doing, _don’t_ stop,” she said, peeking over his shoulder at the other man. Eddie rolled his eyes but smiled, happy that Buck didn’t seem put-off by them.

It took two weeks for him to get a reply.

“See you tomorrow, Eddie,” Buck called out as Eddie rifled through the pantry.

“Yeah, bye Buck!” 

He thought that was the end of it for the day, but when he finally pulled his head out of the closet, he noticed a spiral-bound book sitting on the counter, a familiar green sticky-note on top. He pulled the note off the cover to find what looked like a first manuscript of E.B. Stark’s new book.

It hit him then.

E.B. Stark.

Evan Buckley Stark.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Eddie whispered under his breath, closing his eyes as the embarrassment washed over him. That had been the strange look on his face that day. Eddie had complimented the writer _in front of him_ . He’d read a freaking _sex scene_ from one of Buck’s books _right in front of him_.

The ground could swallow him right about now.

Still, once Eddie worked himself past the initial mortification, it was also pretty amazing. He’d watched Buck craft this new book and had been a fan of his without even knowing. Buck was amazing at his art, leaving imprints on everyone who read it, and getting to know both the writer and the person added a duality to this new thing between them.

Whooshing out a breath, he glanced at the sticky note.

_Sorry I didn’t reply, I was waiting to finish this._

_It might not be as good as yours, but can I buy you coffee?_

Underneath that were scrawled ten digits that had Eddie grinning widely, pumping his fist in the air and doing a little victory jig.

He grabbed his phone immediately, texting the number.

 **Eddie:** Yes

 **Buck:** Look up

He furrowed his brow but glanced up to find Buck grinning at him through the glass. Which meant that the man had seen his happy dance, and had seen the stupid smile on his face and whatever other self-incriminating behaviour was going on out here.

May was right - they _were_ embarrassing

He rolled his eyes but typed out a response.

 **Eddie:** I can’t be any more mortified and humiliated than I already am, you know. Why didn’t you tell me you were the author?

 **Buck:** It was more fun this way. No need to be embarrassed.

 **Buck:** It was adorable.

 **Buck:** Friday at 2? Before Chris gets back from school?

Eddie ignored the previous text while running through his schedule in his head. Chris wouldn’t get back until 4, and Friday meant that Zay or Karen would be here. He'd be free.

Sending one more smile Buck’s way through the glass doors of Serendipity, Eddie shot off one last text.

 **Eddie:** It’s a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, updating this as I sip on my Tim Horton's Iced Capp.

**Author's Note:**

> Grayton is a fictional town, though I do hope it existed xD 
> 
> Kudos and Comments make my day, so thank you to everyone who leaves them! I love hearing what you guys think, and anyone who takes time out of their day to comment has my heart and soul <3
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr at [zeethebooknerd](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/zeethebooknerd) or on Twitter at [tkreyesevandiaz](https://twitter.com/tkreyesevandiaz).


End file.
